Misfits
by ChuckyDoll
Summary: Each one-shot tells a little moment in the life of someone who would be considered a misfit in such an ordered community. They aren't necessarily presented in chronological order; a chapter may take places several years before or after a preceding one-shot. These are the people, who in the eyes of the elite, have "malfunctioned".
1. Fritz

**"[Jonas] knew that his parents cringed a little, as he did, when Fritz, who lived in the dwelling next door to theirs, received his bike and almost immediately bumped into the podium with it. Fritz was a very awkward child who had been summoned for chastisement again and again. His transgressions were small ones, always: shoes on the wrong feet, schoolwork misplaced, failure to study adequately for a quiz. But each such error reflected negatively on his parents' guidance and infringed on the community's sense of order and success." (Chapter 6, Page 45)**

* * *

Fritz had forgotten to turn in yet another homework assignment. He had woken up late again. The Eight thought he had broken the habit of waking up late by the middle of this year, but his mistake proved him wrong. Fritz rushed out of his room, brushing his teeth but forgetting to brush his hair, and grabbed his breakfast, eating only a few bites.

"Fritz," his mother said. "You woke up late again."

"I apologize, Mother," he replied. "I forgot to study for a quiz that I was told about a week ago so I studied all last night. I'm still pretty tired."

"You missed the Sharing of Dreams," she stated. "Your sister, Mairwen, already left for school. Your father already went to find the Bicycle Repair Department."

Fritz laughed a little, remembering how that the Department could never stay in one place, so almost no one knew where it was. That probably explained why he left early. He took two bites of his eggs and one bite of toast before, without finishing with chewing his food, stated that he had had no dreams the night before.

"Fritz, finish chewing before you speak. How many times have I told you?"

"Several," he murmured. "I better change my clothes before I'm late."

Fritz rushed to his room, packing some paper into his backpack and getting his day clothes out of his drawers. His outfit consisted of pants, a tunic, and a front-buttoned jacket with small buttons and pockets. He remembered when he had turned Seven and could finally get rid of the back-buttoned jacket, which had irritated him. He always had to rely on someone else to button it for him. Now that he had his new jacket with pockets, he felt a sense of maturity, despite still making very many mistakes that he can't seem to stop doing. With each mistake, he would feel increasingly frustrated, but he knew he couldn't express his own shame, so he kept quiet.

Fritz grabbed his backpack and stepped out of the room only for his mother to sigh in disappointment.

"What's wrong, Mother?"

"You buttoned your jacket awkwardly and," she replied before she paused, astonished. "Are your shoes on the wrong _feet_?"

Fritz changed his shoes and fixed his jacket, feeling that familiar frustration that came with such an asinine move. He wasn't sure what was wrong with him. He knew that his behavior, in the eyes of most, reflected bad parenting, but he wasn't sure he could attribute his behavior to either his mother or his father. They had done a fine job in raising Mairwen, so that refuted _that_ point. Fritz had only one conclusion: that he was inherently flawed.

His mother went outside, followed by Fritz, and rolled her bicycle from its resting place. She unstrapped the child seat and Fritz hopped on, observing the family next door, and felt his mother buckle him in. He watched as a woman named Gaelle-Grace took her daughter, Lily, and buckled her in her child seat. He had seen the Seven around school and knew her to be quite playful and interested in story-telling. One time, Lily made up a story about a comfort object being passed around from child to child, each time getting progressively filthy and worn out. Fritz thought Lily was a nice little girl, if not a little talkative.

Fritz watched as Lily's brother, who was an Eleven named Jonas, hop on his bike and ride past the houses. He knew Jonas to be quite intelligent and pensive at times and noticed his odd, pale eyes. Such eyes were a rarity here and he had noticed them only on a Five named Katherine. His thoughts were interrupted by the shift in weight caused by his mother moving the bike. His mother rode to his school, dropping him off, and he stopped to see a bus full of children. Fritz turned to see his friend Skylar, a female his age.

"A group of Sevens from another community are visiting today," Skylar had informed him. "Let's get to class."

Fritz and Skylar raced up together, finding their seats in the classroom. They were just in time for the chanting of the Anthem and Fritz murmured the words alongside Skylar before everyone was seated. The Instructor of Eights was handing out the quiz that Fritz had studied all night and announced that she was collecting last night's homework. Fritz picked up his bag and looked through the papers in it, failing to find it. Finally, he turned his bag upside down, watching as his pencils and notebooks tumbled out in a mess. Skylar looked on, giving Fritz the feeling that she thought he had forgotten it again. Fritz looked frantically, much to the chagrin of other students, and realized that he had mistakenly left it on his desk in his bedroom. The Eight sighed.

"I forgot it at home, Instructor Jenny," Fritz admitted finally.

"You will see me after class."

Fritz cleaned up his mess and piled it into his backpack, finishing just before the Instructor handed out the quizzes. Finally, he grabbed a pencil and read the quiz over, realizing that he had completely forgotten what he had studied the night before. Skylar told him that it was a simple test on arithmetics, but he had remembered that "simple" meant different things for them. Skylar was far more intelligent than he, a fact that sometimes made him feel contemptuous and ashamed. Fritz focused on the quiz, struggling to remember what he had studied last night, and only successfully answered two of the numerous questions. Finally, he gave up and handed his quiz in after everyone else. He sighed, knowing that Instructor Jenny would include his failure to study into the chastisement he would receive after class, and hoped that the chastisement would be a quick one.

After everyone had left, the Instructor motioned for Fritz to come forward. He stepped toward the desk, looking down in shame.

"This isn't the first time you forgot to turn in your assignments," she started. "This is just another example of bad work habits, which will not benefit an individual in any sort of occupation. These assignments are designed to help you understand the material being taught in your lessons, Fritz. They help you study for tests like the one today, which might I add, you failed."

"I know, Instructor Jenny," Fritz murmured.

"Do you understand why it is important that you hand in assignments on time and study adequately for tests?"

"Yes, Instructor."

"Good," the Instructor sighed, grading other children's tests. "You may be excused."


	2. Asher

**"Jonas was careful about language. Not like his friend, Asher, who talked too fast and mixed things up, scrambling words and phrases until they were barely recognizable and often very funny." (Chapter 1, Page 5)**

* * *

Asher found himself sweating when he woke up that morning from an odd dream he had last night. He wondered whether or not he should take a shower and looked at the clock beside him, realizing he didn't have enough time to do so, and got up to change. He undressed and took out a tunic and pants from his drawers, changing into them quickly. Asher took a few steps forward before he realized that there was something wrong with his tunic. A chuckle escaped his lips as he realized that his tunic was put on backwards and he had to fix it before he left his room, where his mother, father, and baby sister were waiting.

"Good morning, Mother and Father," Asher chirped before he saw little Phillipa in her high-chair and greeted her with a high-pitched voice. "How are _you_, little Philly?"

Phillipa squealed at her older brother, revealing a few teeth on her bottom gums and a tiny pink tongue. Asher patted Phillipa's head softly before he sat down.

"Can you please hand me my palate?"

"Precision of Language, Asher," his father chuckled, as the couple was now very accustomed to Asher's slip ups. "The word you were supposed to use was 'plate'."

"Can you please hand me my _plate_?"

His mother smiled. "Here. Eat quickly, so we can have the Sharing of Dreams."

Asher ate hurriedly as his mother stood up to feed Phillipa, who was shaking her tiny fists around playfully. Both he and his father smiled at the baby's adorable mannerisms while eating their food, ignoring his mother's advice of eating quickly. With the One only being in this household for some amount months, he still needed time to get used to her presence. She was a good addition, he thought.

Finally, they had all finished their meals and his mother sat down, clearing her throat. "Who wants to share first?"

"How about you, Phillipa?" Asher joked, prompting a laugh from his parents.

"I didn't have any dreams," his father stated. "How about you, Ivy?"

His mother sighed. "I had a rather pleasant dream. Phillipa was already a Three and she was first sharing a dream about Asher at this age. It was rather sweet, the way she thought of him."

Phillipa tried to speak, but could only point to her brother and say a distorted version of her brother's name. "Asha!"

"Aw, she's trying to say my name," Asher murmured. "And I _did_ dream last night."

"Why don't you tell us?" his mother requested sweetly.

Asher tried to remember parts of his dream, which were particularly vivid, and thought that such a dream was the cause of his sweating that morning. He wasn't perspiring anymore, but he was still paranoid that the simple recollection of it would cause him to sweat again. Still, he knew he had to share his dream. It was explicitly stated in the rules.

"We had just finished our swimming lessons and I had been chaste-"

"Chastised, Asher," said his father impatiently.

"Chastised by the Instructor. Everyone left and I was sitting at the side of the pool alone and then Jonas was there and-"

His mother sighed in frustration alongside his father and he knew he had done something wrong again. Which word did he mix up this time?

"Be careful not to use run-on sentences in your speech," said his mother. "You also have a habit of using them in your writing. Now, continue your dream."

"Jonas came out of the changing rooms. The Instructor left with the other Elevens, so Jonas and I were there alone. Neither of us changed out of our swimming suits. He said he had heard the Instructor chaste – uh, I mean, _chastise_ me and felt sorry for me. Jonas offered to teach me how to swim and I agreed, so we both got in the water. He just told me to float in a super – uh – _supine_ position and his hands would be under me so I wouldn't sink," Asher explained. "I was so grateful that I hugged him. He hugged me back and kissed my cheek."

"How did you feel when he did that, Ash?" his father asked.

"Good, I guess," Asher shrugged. "It was unusual, but sort of... nice. I felt wanted and I think he felt the same way."

Both of his parents chuckled. "Asher, I think you have had your first Stirrings dream."

"My what?"

His father continued. "Everyone goes through it at about your age. It happened to me and your mother. Some day, it will happen to little Phillipa."

"So what happens?"

"You have to take the Pill every day," his mother stated. "Until you reach the House of the Old."

"Oh," Asher shrugged, not particularly bothered by the fact that he had to take the Pill.

* * *

The Pill wasn't so bothersome, hadn't Asher not been forgetting it. The first few days, he had to be reminded to take his dose, which made him blush with embarrassment. He started to wonder if any of his friends took the Pill, but to ask would be considered highly rude, as it was too personal a question. Asher wished he would have some way of knowing so he would feel less awkward about it.

One day, he had gone outside to meet Jonas so they could ride to school together. Asher pulled out his bike, which had been parked rather awkwardly, and rode to his friend.

"Hi Jonas," he greeted a little more enthusiastically than he should have. He started to wonder if Jonas noticed it, but if his younger friend did, he made no comment on it.

"Hey Ash," the pale-eyed boy said affectionately. It made Asher feel oddly warm.

"Asher!" his father called from a distance, holding the pill jar in his hand.

Immediately, Asher felt embarrassed, as he had been exposed right in front of his best friend. Somehow, he felt paranoid that Jonas knew his first Stirrings dream was about him, and he looked back at his father, riding back to his dwelling to receive his pill. He thought of that odd feeling of security and affection he felt and wished he hadn't told the dream some time ago. That way, he could feel that feeling all the time with his best friend.

"You forgot to take the Pill," his father had stated.

His mother, Ivy, spoke up. "Carlisle, are you going to take Phillipa or will I?"

Asher rode away, swallowing his pill, and caught up to Jonas. They rode side by side, both content with the other's companionship, and Asher wished those feelings would come back.

"Is Fiona going to ride with us?" Asher asked.

"I don't know, she usually does," Jonas shrugged before they spotted the gentle female riding towards them.

"Hello," she greeted kindly.

Both boys greeted her and she smiled mischievously. "Let's race."

Jonas and Asher looked at each other before responding to Fiona, who was waiting for an answer. Asher wholeheartedly agreed while Jonas chose to ride at a leisurely pace. Fiona had a head start and took advantage of it, laughing the whole time while Asher struggled to catch up. His time with Fiona took his mind off of Jonas, if only for a short while, and he almost crashed into another Eleven named Pierre.

Pierre was born right after Jonas and was widely known as a very pedantic boy. Jonas and Fiona, on multiple occasions, had to defend Asher from Pierre's comments. He was grateful for his two friends, who often helped him whenever he needed him. He would gladly volunteer to return the favor, but they didn't make nearly as many mistakes as he did, so he felt that his friendships were unbalanced. Fiona's unfair victory snapped him out of it and Pierre reprimanded him.

"Why don't you look where you're going?" Pierre asked angrily.

Asher hung his head down in shame as he proceeded to where Fiona parked her bike. They proceeded up to their classroom together and Asher realized that this was the first time in a while that he hadn't been late.

"Don't let Pierre get to you," Fiona comforted him. "He is that way to everyone. Don't take it personally."

Asher smiled at her and they sat down beside one another, awaiting Jonas's arrival. Jonas sat beside Asher, who couldn't help but grin at the pale-eyed boy. He noticed how his eyes seemed to carry a certain depth and admired it, wishing that he, too, would have the same look. The students stood up to chant the Anthem before continuing their lessons.

Asher tried to focus on what they were studying, but struggled just a bit, so Jonas volunteered to help him. He enjoyed the company of his best friend and wondered why Jonas was so willing to help.

Maybe, just maybe, Jonas could help him finally learn to swim.


	3. Owen

**" 'I felt very angry this afternoon,' Lily announced. 'My Childcare group was at the play area, and we had a visiting group of Sevens, and they didn't obey the rules at **_**all. **_**One of them-a male; I don't know his name-kept going right to the front of the line for the slide, even though the rest of us were all waiting. I felt so angry at him. I made my hand into a fist, like this.' She held up a clenched fist and the rest of the family smiled at her small defiant gesture." (Chapter 1 Page 5)**

* * *

Owen squirmed in his seat while the bus pulled up to the entrance of the community that his group of Sevens were visiting. Their Instructor had announced the name of the city, but Owen quickly forgot it. Owen forgot a lot of things, such as how to share the toys he was playing with, and as a result, he had few friends. There was one girl named Helena who often reminded him of the rules and Owen knew she felt sorry for him. Sometimes, Owen was just so sick of everyone telling him to do _this_ and to do _that_, which would lead him to break many of the rules. His Instructors and peers would grow frustrated until an adult would call him up for chastisement, which was followed by a time out.

His peers were all anxious to get off the bus and meet the Sevens of this community that he forgot the name of. Owen, however, was nervous. What rules would they have here? It was frustrating enough to follow the rules of his own community, but now he had to learn a new set, which he would only follow for a few hours. What was the point of learning them if he was only coming to this community once?

The Instructor and the group of Sevens were brought to the school and Owen noticed that their uniforms were slightly different. His community called for the Sevens to have a simple shirt with overalls containing small pockets. This new place had Sevens wearing a front-buttoned jacket, a tunic, and pants. Immediately, his group felt awkward as they drew attention to themselves. The Sevens of this community were having their recess, so Owen felt relieved that he wouldn't have to be studying with them. If they had learned usages that his group hadn't yet, his feelings of awkwardness and stupidity would be more noticeable, which would draw attention to himself. That was more than he was comfortable with.

"Owen," Helena, who stood beside him, whispered. "Pay attention. They're talking about rules for recreation."

Owen found himself unable to focus on the Instructor's explanations when he noticed the difference between the girls' braids. In his own community, girls wore a single braid, which had been weaved into their hair before being tied up at its tail with a single band. Here, the girls wore two braids that were held together by little ribbons. He noticed one of the female Sevens was particularly close to him, although she likely hadn't intended to do this, and he read her name-tag: Lily 23. She seemed pleasant enough and Owen gazed at the different equipment that would be available to him during their recreation. Immediately, his eyes caught sight of a slide and he couldn't keep his mind off of it.

"You may go," his Instructor had announced.

Owen bolted to the slide, climbing up the ladder. He situated himself before he pushed off, feeling a brief moment of escape. The Seven wanted to feel it again, so he raced to the ladder again, completely unaware of the line of children waiting behind him.

That feeling of escape came again, and again, and again. Climb, sit, push, _escape_. Owen felt that that last vital moment was too brief, so he kept jumping in front of the line, allowing very few to have a turn after him, and climbing up to relive his moment of contentment. He had the feeling that Helena would tell him that he, by cutting in front of everyone, was making the other children angry, but he had no idea of how to silence those feelings of shame except for that feeling of sliding down again and again.

Owen got off and noticed the Seven named Lily scrunch her nose with impatience and her fingers curl into weak fists. He felt shame when he realized that he was causing her this agitation and had no idea how to counter it. He looked at the glistening metal that meant his feeling of contentment and climbed up the ladder, pushing himself down with glee.

Their time with this community had ended and his Instructor pulled him aside.

"Owen, do you know what you did wrong?" he asked, prompting Owen to nod, but he went to explain anyway. "You cut in front of those kids. They wanted a turn on the slide too. That's why we take turns, so everyone has a chance to enjoy the slide."

Owen wanted to explain his feelings to his Instructor, but they were too complicated and he worried that the older man wouldn't take him very seriously. How was he supposed to explain the way the existing restraints frustrated him, the contentment he felt when he went against them and the glee of sliding down, out of one's own control? How was he supposed to explain that sense of _freedom_?

"I understand now, Instructor," said Owen, who was instructed to go on the bus with the rest of the children.

He searched for his seat, seeing that the Sevens were being given their midday meal, and found a place next to Helena. He could tell that Helena was frustrated with him and his failure to obey the rules yet again. Owen hung his head down in shame as he was given his midday meal, which he only took a few bites of.

"Why did you cut in front of the other Sevens?" asked Helena.

"I don't know," was all he murmured. He took a bite of his sandwich so he wouldn't have to speak anymore, as chewing while talking was considered rude.

Owen kept to himself during the whole bus ride while the other children chatted about the day spent in that community. He remembered the girl named Lily and her scrunched up face accompanied by her curled fists. That memory made him feel anguish and he curled up into a ball until the bus arrived at his own community, where he wouldn't feel so odd. Finally, the bus arrived home and the children were dismissed. Owen wanted to get rid of his negative feelings, so he did this the only way he knew how.

He sought out the recreation area, which was emptier than he expected, and went on the slide.


	4. Brannon

**" 'I heard about a guy who was absolutely certain he was going to be assigned Engineer,' Asher muttered as they ate, 'and instead they gave him Sanitation Laborer. He went out the next day, jumped into the river, swam across, and joined the next community he came to. Nobody ever saw him again.'**

**Jonas laughed. 'Somebody made that story up, Ash," he said. "My father said he heard that story when **_**he **_**was a Twelve.' " (Chapter 6 Page 47)**

* * *

Brannon sat with his group-mates in the Auditorium, anxious for the Ceremony of Twelve. He had looked forward to it, as all the other Elevens had. Actually, he looked forward to it more than his friends, Lawrence and Thomas, as he was quite certain of what he wanted to be and what he was going to be assigned. Brannon had spent most of his hours at construction sites and, during recreation hours, used blocks to construct different structures. He admitted to himself that he wasn't the most intelligent Eleven out there, but he made up for it with his willingness to learn. His fascination with the architecture and electricity that ran through it consumed him and he tapped his feet, exerting his nervous energy.

Finally, the Elevens were called up and they were seated according to their birth number. Brannon's was 7, which meant that he would receive his assignment before most of the others. He was satisfied with this, as he couldn't stand waiting for his assignment anymore. He couldn't wait to be given the role of Engineer.

After what seemed like forever, Brannon was called to the front of the stage. He smiled at the crowd and saw his parents, who he hoped would be beaming with pride once he was assigned Engineer. Finally, the Elder cleared his throat and began his speech.

"We all know that Brannon works hard to be the best citizen he could be," he started, continuing a speech about how helpful he was to everyone.

Brannon was beginning to feel impatient, as the speech felt like it was taking hours to finish, and the crowd would chuckle at a few jokes the Elder would make. Brannon didn't find them particularly funny, so he tried to distract himself for the time being. Soon enough, the Elder concluded the speech.

"You have been assigned Sanitation Laborer," the Elder spoke. "Brannon, thank you for your childhood."

Sanitation Laborer? _Sanitation Laborer?!_ What had he done wrong? Sure there had to be some mistake! His thoughts told him that was ridiculous, as the Elders would never make such a mistake. Brannon felt stupid for thinking that he would be assigned Engineer and took his badge, feigning contentment. He felt ashamed that he couldn't be someone that his parents could take pride in raising. Somehow, this made him feel utterly useless in the Community that he grew up in, as he had been assigned a role that _anyone_ could do.

After the Ceremony, he rode home and refused to share his feelings. Instead, he plotted.

* * *

That morning, he decided to wake up a little early and go for a bike ride to soothe his own feelings. He rode through the Plaza and then decided to ride near the river, as it had quite a nice view. He stopped by it, seeing an airport in the distance, and wished there was a bridge so he could cross the river and check it out. Suddenly, a crazy idea overcame him, and he dropped his bike and jumped in the river. The current was somewhat strong, but he was able to swim across, and he pulled himself up onto the ground again. Brannon looked back at the Community, where he no longer wanted to live in, and turned ahead. He bolted for the airport, which was several miles away, and lost his breath for some time before he bolted again.

_That was so stupid! _His breaths were turning into pants and he was uncomfortable due to his clothes being wet. He could hardly believe he had acted on such an impulse and, in retrospect, realized that such a trait was unsuitable for the occupation of an Engineer. Brannon pushed the thought aside, thinking that maybe in another community, he could receive a better role. In the meantime, he would have to work on his newly perceived impulsiveness. His heart swelled with hope again and he started to sprint, realizing that he was very hungry and very thirsty.

He hid in a field and picked off a few grapes, wetting his dry mouth and soothing his hunger pains. Brannon caught sight of the planes in the distance and took a few grapes with him, finishing them before he ran to the airport. He only made it half way there before night came again and he had to sleep.

The next morning, Brannon woke up and started his journey in brief sprints, longer jogs, and even longer walks. He would occasionally take a little snack from the fields when someone wasn't looking and wondered how he had been overlooked for the past day. His clothes were long dry and he felt filthy, remembering that his last shower had been two nights ago. Once he made it to the airport and found some way to another community, he could take a shower and have a proper meal.

Near the end of the day, Brannon reached the airport and noticed that the atmosphere seemed like it was calming down. He overheard two pilots saying that a certain group of boxes will be flown and driven to a community that neighbored his own and searched to find those boxes. Finally, he found them in a separate room and one box was still open. Brannon looked around, making sure no one was looking, and snuck inside the box, closing it shut. He was quite relieved for there to be a few holes in the box so he could breathe and for him not to weigh very much. Brannon fell asleep.

* * *

He woke up to the sound of a plane taking off and felt himself rise. His box slid to the back, causing him to hit something else with a loud thud. Brannon felt his neck cramping up and his legs becoming sore. He didn't have a lot of room to move, so he tried to fall asleep again, succeeding within the next five minutes.

Some time later, no more than an hour, the plane landed and the boxes were loaded into large vehicles, which would be driven to another community. A man struggled with the box that carried him, so a woman assisted him, and he was hoisted into the back of a van. Brannon tried to crack his neck and failed, feeling the wood top of the box rub against his scalp. He realized he had never been so hungry or sore.

The drive was no more than an hour and a half and soon enough, he was being unloaded at the Department of Food Production. He heard people opening up the boxes of food and footsteps approaching him as well as bits of dialogue.

"This box was particularly heavy," said a female, who couldn't be much older than he was.

The female opened his box and jumped back in surprise. Brannon struggled to escape it, shocking everyone in the building, and moved so much that he caused the box to topple from its table. He landed on his head and pushed the box off of him, rubbing his pained scalp and stretching his limbs. Brannon panted, finding everyone staring at him.

"H-h-how did you end up there?" asked the female. He read her name tag: Sloane.

Brannon spotted a nearby Elder, who must have been observing the habits of the volunteering Elevens. The older man was just as surprised as everyone else, if not a bit amused.

"Come with me," said the Elder.

Turns out, the Department of Justice was conveniently close by, and the Elder led Brannon into the large building. The boy was quite confused, but not particularly worried. It wasn't often that a community gets a new member in such a strange and sudden way, so they must have been running through some sort of protocol. Brannon was led to a large room and sat before a judge, wishing that he had had time to bathe first.

"Hello, erm... Brannon," said the judge. "Do you mind telling me how you came here?"

"Well, uh," Brannon stuttered. "I jumped in the river near my community and swam across before I encountered an airport. I snuck in a box that was scheduled to be flown and delivered. Sure enough, that box was put on a plane and then driven here in a van before I ended up in the Department of Food Production."

The judge hummed with interest. "So you, against the rules of every community, left with permission, went into an airport unauthorized, and tampered with deliveries?"

Brannon didn't know how to do anything but nod. The judge seemed frustrated and Brannon, for the first time, felt fear. What was to happen now?

"You _do_ know what happens when one commits three major infractions, don't you?"

Brannon nodded. "Release, right?"

The judge smiled. "Good, not so much explaining. Trista, do you mind guiding him?"

A young woman motioned to him and Brannon was led out of the large trial room and into a long hallway. From what he knew, Release was going Elsewhere. Wouldn't they just send him to another community? He was confused. Was Trista getting papers for authorization?

Trista opened a door, telling Brannon to enter, and she walked in, closing the door behind her. Brannon looked around, seeing cabinets, a cot, and a trash chute. _This_ place couldn't lead to Elsewhere, could it? Trista proceeded to get something from the cabinet and Brannon wondered if health checkups were part of Release customs. They had to make sure he was healthy before being sent off some place. It seemed to make more sense now and he relaxed.

Trista filled a needle with some liquid that Brannon didn't know the name of. She smiled at him and Brannon felt soothed.

"Hold out your arm," she instructed. "I know you must have had injections when you were younger. Believe me, when you're older, they don't hurt so much."

"Thank you," Brannon stated, holding out his arm.

Trista injected the liquid into his veins and took the needle out, cleaning up her materials. At first, Brannon felt nothing. Seconds later, he had trouble breathing and his limbs started to quiver.

"Trista, there must be something wrong-"

He found himself unable to speak and was losing strength. Soon enough he could no longer think and his lungs felt like they were collapsing. His veins started to burn and he wanted to cry, but it was impossible. His hearing lessened and Brannon could only hear the sound of the door opening and closing. His sight started to fail him and the last thing he saw was Trista undressing him and fetching a box to place him in.

Finally, his heart failed.


	5. Edna

**" 'Well, they tried to make her life sound meaningful. And of course,' [Larissa] added primly, 'all lives **_**are **_**meaningful, I don't mean that they aren't. But **_**Edna. **_**My goodness. She was a Birthmother, and then she worked in Food Production for years, until she came here. She never even had a family unit.' " (Chapter 4 Page 31) **

* * *

Edna had just given birth. The Nurses took away a crying female, Number 48, and Edna felt her heart sink. The sound of her daughter's cry had been too much and she wanted nothing more than to nurse her child. She realized that her breasts started to hurt and feel heavy, but she couldn't complain now, as she was too tired. Her eyes started to feel heavy. Soon enough, she fell asleep and later woke up in her hospital bed. There was some food set aside for her on a tray and a few other Birthmothers were sitting on the beds, amusing themselves. Edna recognized one girl, Farrah, and called her name.

"Edna! You're awake."

"Where's... my... baby?" she yawned, still out of it.

"In the Nursery," Farrah answered. "Like all the other new-children."

Edna paid attention to the little bump on Farrah's belly and sighed. _Oh, Farrah, just wait until you yearn for your baby._ Edna grumbled in frustration, thinking of the Ceremony of One, which was coming up soon. Her baby would still be only a few days old when she would be named and Edna would have to watch her be given away. That thought pained her, but she couldn't push it aside. She counted down the days until she would see her daughter named.

* * *

It was the day of the Ceremony and Edna got there early, knowing that not many of her friends would be there. She recognized other people in her age group, thinking it silly that she would seek them out, and sat down. She gazed at those arriving, recognizing Roberto, and remembered her first Stirrings dream. As a Birthmother, she was instructed not to take her pill for the pregnancy, and hadn't gotten back on it. Edna realized she still liked Roberto, despite the fact that he had a Spouse. _What was her name? _She tried to remember. _Something like Marlowe._

Edna knew little about Marlowe, except that she was involved in supervising labor, and groaned at the thought. It was only a few days until she would work under Marlowe, who would no doubt complain about her to Roberto. She didn't like the thought of Roberto thinking badly about her. Pretty soon, the Auditorium was filled.

The Elders made an opening speech and the Nurturers brought up the new-children. Those born early in the year were already trying to walk on their unsteady legs and a few gave up, instead opting to crawl off stage. Edna chuckled at one particularly mischievous new-child, Number 3, and remembered his Birthmother. Her name was Fauna and she had thoroughly enjoyed playing pranks on the Nurses. One time, she had been instructed to drink more fluids, so she requested apple juice and placed it in a container normally used for urine samples. Edna smiled as she recalled the memory.

"Fauna, are you crazy?" Edna had asked.

"The Elders are crazy for assigning me the role of Birthmother," Fauna replied, pouring a bit of apple juice into the small container, which she had made sure was clean.

"What will that Nurse say?"

"We'll find out!"

The Nurse had returned to see Fauna taking a sip from the container and nearly dropped her clipboard. Edna struggled not to laugh as Fauna finished the tiny amount of liquid she had poured. Fauna then formed her lips so she could spit out the apple juice in two thin streams. She spat out the juice, making the floor slippery, and the Nurse gasped.

"Fauna, what are you _doing_?" she had asked. "You're spitting urine!"

"Urine? What urine?" Fauna asked innocently. "I thought I should use a small cup for my apple juice, but I found out the juice didn't taste very good."

Edna had grown very fond of Fauna from then on. Now that she was at the Ceremony, she could see that her son would be just as much of a prankster as she was. She thought that whoever will receive the child will have their hands full. Edna thought of it as a form of poetic justice, as she had seen Fauna lament over her son on multiple occasions. The young boy was crawling in circles, confusing the Nurturers, who had decided that he should just be held. Finally, when a female twice her age picked him up, Number 3 squirmed for his freedom.

"Newchild 01, Liam," the Elder spoke, short moments between each individual naming. "Newchild 02, Rosanne. Newchild 03, Donatello..."

_Donatello_, Edna thought. _Not a bad name._ She wondered how Fauna would react to such a name and dearly missed her. She started to wonder what her own child, Number 48, would be named and who she would be given to. Edna hoped that someone like Larissa wouldn't receive her daughter. She remembered Larissa, who was born the year after her, being rather arrogant towards her. She knew Larissa was hoping to start a family unit, as word somehow spread around quickly, despite rules intended to reduce gossip. Ever since her first encounter with Larissa, she disliked her immensely, and she hoped she wouldn't have to come across her today.

Finally, the new-children numbered in the forties were being announced. She heard the Elder say Number 46's name: Liana.

"Number 47, Seraph," said the Elder.

After Seraph was handed to a couple, another pair of Spouses went up on stage. The man, named Adrien, was six years older than Edna and had helped her on homework a few times in her childhood. She remembered Adrien fondly and recognized his Spouse, Jacinda. Edna's heart swelled as she waited for the name of her precious daughter.

"Number 48," said the Elder. "Evette."

* * *

Edna was being escorted into the Releasing Room. Her body ached with age and she thought of her years as a laborer in food production. During that time, she met a young, mysterious woman named Aerona. By that time, Aerona was half her age, yet she knew so much more. Edna had been doing punishment labor when she first encountered the girl with the pale eyes, who claimed to be from Elsewhere. Edna had been with Olive, who must have been Aerona's age, and was more focused on following the proper rules of etiquette than she had previously. Some time after, she had given up trying to be the nice citizen that everyone liked.

Over the years, Aerona had been selected as Birthmother and bore her three children, the last one being years after her second. During laboring hours, Edna grew very close to Aerona. She learned that Aerona had a daughter back in Elsewhere, who had reached the age of five by the time she was assigned Birthmother. Edna wanted to know why Aerona had a daughter and what she felt towards her. It took a long time for Aerona to confide in her, but she later learned that Aerona was forced to have the daughter, who had been named Rhosyn, and at that moment, Edna's heart went out for the younger woman. Edna had told her of her three children, her favorite being Evette, and spoke of her heartbreak when she had learned (through gossip, of course) that Evette had been Released before reaching her third decade of life. Through Aerona, who had some acquaintance with the other Birthmothers, Edna learned that Evette had committed two infractions before and, being tired of her community life, committed a third as a way to offend the Elders. Aerona alone understood her grief, as Edna learned that she had longed for the daughter she had birthed here. Her name was Rhiannon.

Whenever Aerona and Edna were alone, they would talk of how they longed to be with their daughters. They would get funny looks from Larissa, but Aerona told Edna to ignore it, and they would go on. Now that it was Edna's day of Release, she realized she would miss Aerona dearly.

Edna sat down on the small stage while someone on the Releasing Committee stood at a podium. The other elderly were being escorted into their seats, accompanied by Caretakers, and Edna spotted Larissa. No doubt would she fall asleep.

Finally, Aerona came and waved to Edna. Although Edna's sight was failing her as of late, she could see that Aerona had been crying. The younger woman had requested to be seated at the front and the Caretakers respected her wish. The Head of the Releasing Committee tapped the microphone slightly and spoke.

"Edna, Number 41, was born eighty-five years ago. The Nurturers, at the time, had enjoyed caring for little Edna, who had a rather playful disposition."

Edna could see Larissa yawning with boredom and sighed, feeling miserable. It was her Release Day and no one cared! Aerona gave Edna a pained smile and she was reminded that someone _did_ care, so it didn't matter what people like Larissa thought. Larissa was what Aerona had once called a 'bitch'. Edna had no idea what it meant, but she learned it was similar to the community's insult word, which was 'animal'. Edna continued to listen to her life telling.

"She made many friends in her youth and gave warmth to all those around her," said the Head cheerfully. "At her Ceremony of Twelve, she was assigned Birthmother, and she took on the role with pride."

_Lies,_ thought Edna.

"She birthed two successful sons, Gale and Henry, and birthed a daughter, Evette, before she worked in Food Production. As always, she had taken on her responsibility with pride and, just as she did with her youth, provided everyone around her with warmth."

Edna sighed, knowing that there wasn't much to tell of her life. She never applied for a Spouse, as she knew that there wasn't a suitable match for her in the whole community and the one man she would have wanted to be paired with was with someone else. She looked for Roberto in the crowd and found him smiling at her, which made her heart ache more. Edna almost cried, knowing that without a Spouse, she could never apply for children. She wouldn't have, anyway, as she couldn't stand the thought of taking a Birthmother's child away from her. She was more than familiar with the pain of losing a child and couldn't bear to inflict that on someone else. That was another thing that Aerona understood more than anyone else. She heard the speech end quickly.

"Anyone else care to make a speech?" the Head asked.

Edna felt bitter as no one raised their hand. Aerona looked around, almost angry that they were making Edna feel this way, and rose her hand. Someone offered to escort her up to the podium, but Aerona refused, insisting that she could do things herself despite being elderly.

Edna had the fond memory of discussing goodbye speeches with Aerona the day before. Aerona promised Edna she would read a speech for her and, in return, Edna wrote a goodbye speech that she would have read had Aerona been the one being Released first. She made Aerona promise that she wouldn't read it until the day of her own Release, which prompted tears from the younger woman.

"What's wrong?" Edna has asked.

"I want to tell you so badly," Aerona choked on tears. "But I can't. They're making sure of it."

"Who is?"

"I can't tell you."

Edna had reached out to touch Aerona's shoulder, which failed to comfort the Elsewhere girl. _The Elsewhere girl_, Edna had thought. _She'll go home on her Release Day. She'll finally go home and see Rhosyn, all grown up._ Aerona didn't seem too happy to have that looming in her future and Edna wanted to know why.

"Is it about Release?"

Aerona nodded. "It's not the Elsewhere that I came from." She then calmed down and added. "You'll see Evette again."

Edna almost cried at the memory as she watched Aerona brace herself against the podium, pushing her frizzy, thin hair out of her face. She couldn't wait to hear the speech.

"Edna, you have been one of my best friends in the community. The Head of the Releasing Committee said you gave warmth, but you did more than that. You gave understanding. You gave it to the Birthmothers that secretly cried over not being able to hold their children, to the Laborers that wished they were something better, and to the outcasts who weren't the smartest or the strongest. You gave understanding and warmth to the outsider like myself. Remember your worth. I'm not talking of what you contribute and what part of you the community has come to accept. I'm talking of your inherent worth given to you simply because you were born. With the lives that we have had, it is easy to forget."

Aerona then paused and cleared her throat.

"It's also easy to forget to stay awake for _everyone's_ Release Ceremony and not just the ones who did _oh so much_ and blah blah blah_!_" Aerona stated, directing it at Larissa.

Edna laughed as the other elderly turned around, seeing Larissa almost doze off. She sat smugly, knowing that her friend made Larissa uncomfortable, and predicted that she would be telling the story of _that obnoxious woman embarrassing her_ to some volunteering child during her bathing session. Aerona chuckled a bit and proceeded.

"Edna, you have given me so much companionship. I hope that one day, I could return the favor," Aerona concluded. "Goodbye."

_You already have_, thought Edna.

Aerona stepped down and squeezed her hand, whispering that, when going through the special door, not everything will be as it had seemed. Edna took note of Aerona's comment, noticing that Aerona was crying again, and whispered that she would join her years from now, and not to worry.

Edna couldn't worry. What was there to worry about? She had done her work, made her friends, learned her lessons and lived her life here. It was time to go Elsewhere, the great unknown, where she would join the others who had left before her. Edna's heart swelled with happiness as she was escorted through the special door, not looking at what was inside, and took a deep breath.

She would be with Evette again.


	6. Justin

**"There was even a boy in his group of Elevens whose father had been released years before. No one ever mentioned it; the disgrace was unspeakable. It was hard to imagine." (Chapter 1, Page 9)**

* * *

"Justin," spoke Gaelle-Grace. "You _do_ realize that this is your third infraction."

"Yes," he muttered.

Justin remembered the last time he was brought into the trial room, several years ago. It was over a year after his Ceremony of Twelve and he was still in training. His job was Sanitation Laborer, which meant he had to pick up trash. He remembered his anguish during the ceremony. Justin was a terrible student and even committed a major infraction before he had become an Eleven. When he received his badge for one of the lowest jobs the community had to offer, he felt as if this was the community's way of punishing him. It wasn't punishment for a single deed, like he had before becoming an Eleven. It was a punishment for being who he was: a rebellious failure.

A year after receiving his assignment, he had met other laborers who had accepted their roles. It mystified him, how one could simply enjoy picking up trash for people who left it around, not even considering the existence, the personalities, and the personal lives of those who cleaned up for them. Justin had spent a good amount of time picking up the left over food to know how food could sometimes be wasted. One day, when he was just a Thirteen, he had picked up a food container that was still half-full and wondered why a person would waste it. Justin thought that the food was still good, so he tried his best to hide it in the pockets of his pants and continued to clean up after others. He had been caught and tried before a judge, who determined his punishment: reeducation and forced labor. At first, Justin didn't think the labor would be so bad, but he later learned that it was a worse type of labor, occurring away from the safe community and exposing him to more dangers than other jobs. His only companion, whom he wasn't allowed to speak to, was a Birthmother named Rhiannon. Justin had tried to ask her a few questions and was caught by their overseer. The overseer had asked if he had spoken to Rhiannon, which he affirmed, and she asked if Rhiannon had replied, which he denied (and therefore lied). The overseer chastised him and told him about a possible probation extension before he had to do physical labor for the rest of the day.

At the end of his probation period, they had shown him a clip of a Release. Much to his surprise, it hadn't been going Elsewhere, but going into a small room to be euthanized. He knew they had intended to scare him into behaving in a manner accepted by the community. At the time, Justin thought it had worked.

Now, as he sat before the judge, Justin realized that his latest mistake will be his last. The judge gazed at him sympathetically and he guessed that she wasn't just ashamed with him, but with herself too, that she had to dole out such a punishment. People like him emphasized the fragility of the perfect order upheld by the Department of Justice. Justin felt guilty for making her feel this way, but his guilt didn't quiet his anger. He didn't think that what he did was enough to be considered a major infraction. The man sighed, knowing that his actions didn't affect just himself, but his two children, Emilienne and Phoenix. Emilienne was Rhiannon's birth-child (though no one would have guessed, as Emilienne had dark eyes), which made Justin feel especially remorseful. Not only did he fail his daughter, but her mother as well. His heart sank.

"Take him to the Releasing Room," Gaelle-Grace. "I'm very sorry, Justin, but you know the rules."

"Yes, Judge," he groaned.

As he was taken down a long hallway, he thought about the woman he had spoken to during his probation period. Rhiannon was odd looking and her behavior was just as strange. Even though he was five years younger than her, he had seen her quite often during school and knew her to be puzzling to many. She may not have known him before her punishment, but he knew her quite well. She was friends with the Receiver, became a Birthmother, and, unlike others, made a point to express her dissatisfaction.

After Not-To-Be-Named had been Released and her memories spread to the populace, Rhiannon had helped the Receiver assimilate the terrible visions. Some time after, it felt like no one remembered her deed except for him. Justin couldn't forget Rhiannon's bravery and in his mind, he called her Rhiannon the Resilient.

He tried to remember the first time he had seen Rhiannon. Justin was just a Five and Rhiannon was a Ten. The Receiver was still in training and went to school, often accompanying Rhiannon during recreation and meal times. His thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open and Justin sat down on a cot. The person that had accompanied him there left, closing the door until the one authorized to euthanize him would come. The man looked at the garbage disposal, thinking of the strangeness of it all. _I picked up trash for a living and now I _am _trash. _

Justin tried to distract himself by remembering an odd occurrence during his fifth year of life. Emanuel had been sitting beside Rhiannon during their midday meal and Justin spied on them for entertainment. He had overheard their conversation, which confused him at first, but then became the center of his interest.

"Rhiannon," Emanuel had said. "What do _you _know about being an outcast?"

"More than you," Rhiannon huffed.

Emanuel had taken the challenging of his knowledge with offense. "Well, gee then! Tell you what, why don't you write me a whole story about someone who's 'different' and we'll see how much you know."

"Fine!"

Emanuel had left and Rhiannon started writing several words on a paper. He kept watching, wondering if Emanuel was going to come back and berate her some more, which would have been interesting to see. He had never seen a Receiver before then, so to see just how different they were from the rest of the community would have been fascinating and so new to him. Emanuel, however, did _not_ come back, and instead, Justin got a different surprise.

Rhiannon had to leave and she forgot to pick up her papers, so Justin raced to where she had left them and examined her work. Later that day, Rhiannon had caught him, although she never learned his identity, and decided to write another piece about the same topic. It became a story surrounding one character, depicting her life experiences, and Justin came to relate to this person that Rhiannon had fashioned up for fun. He tried to remember the name of the character when Zara, the woman authorized to release him, came through the door. Justin started to grip the sides of the cot, his heart racing, and he started to remember the fear of death that had appeared in those visions five years ago.

Zara filled a syringe with clear liquid and tested it before she approached Justin. The man gulped.

"No need to worry," she said to him. "It won't hurt."

"I know what you're going to do to me," he replied with fear in his voice. "I'm not a bad person."

"No one said you are, Justin," said the woman. "I should know. I'm your spouse. You committed three infractions. You knew the consequences."

Justin wasn't sure what prompted the next action. Maybe it was what was left of those visions in his mind. Perhaps it could have been his own anger towards the entire system, or it could have been both, but it resulted in a strange outcome.

Justin jumped up, attempting to restrain Zara so she couldn't inject the fluid. His adrenaline went into overdrive and he felt unusually angry for whatever reason. Zara resisted with all her strength, but Justin was a bit stronger, so she had to rely on her wit for this one. He attempted to bring her hands together and force her to drop the syringe, but she kicked him in several places, causing him to release her wrists. They were both panting and Justin looked into Zara's eyes, seeing something he had never before, and she jammed the syringe into his neck. Just before the fluid reached his vital organs, causing them to fail, he remembered the name of the girl that Rhiannon had fashioned up and made him relate to, thus remembering the true start of his dissatisfaction with the community (and thus, the impetus of his subsequent actions).

_Willow._


	7. Willow

"Willow," Peter, a male Eleven, whispered. "Wake up."

Willow, a female Ten, rose up from her bed. Her vision was blurry for split seconds before she blinked and rubbed her eyes. Peter sat beside her, holding out a change of clothes for her. She breathed deeply, stretching out her limbs, and looked at the clock before she noticed that Peter was already dressed.

"You don't have much time," Peter informed her. "Mother and Father are already setting up for the Morning Meal."

Peter quickly left the room, allowing Willow to change in privacy. While she changed, she couldn't help but look down at her bare chest and stomach, poking her belly button. _What is _this_ for, _she thought to herself. After she heard the slight clanking of eating utensils from outside her room, she quickly put her tunic and pants on. She was glad to have gotten rid of her braids, otherwise she would have taken much longer. Willow placed her arithmetic assignment, which was only half-finished, into her backpack. Peter knocked on the door.

"Willow?" he asked. "Are you finished?"

"Y-y-yes," she struggled.

Willow exited the room and sat down in her chair, staring at her meal. She took quick bites, keeping track of how much time she had, and watched the others eat at a slower pace than she. Peter shot her a brief glance with a raised eyebrow, making Willow feel self-conscious. Willow placed her utensils down and wiped her hands on a napkin, despite them not being particularly dirty. Her parents and brother soon finished after her and her mother cleared her throat.

"Who's first for the Sharing of Dreams?"

Willow shrunk where she sat, not enjoying the idea of sharing her dream. Granted, she didn't dream often, but whenever she did dream, her parents expected her to tell all of it. She never really understood how much was _all_, as on many occasions, she would only tell parts because she was too embarrassed by her own speech. Willow did not want to lie, as one of the major foundations of the community was truthfulness and precision. She could, however, deceive by omission.

"Willow?" Peter asked.

Willow shook her head. Peter leaned over, looking at Willow's side, and she turned away. Her hands fidgeted with one another and Peter raised an eyebrow in confusion. Her parents expressed similar emotions.

"Willow?" he whispered. "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head and played with a fork.

"Willow," her mother sternly spoke.

Willow put the fork down. She glanced only at Peter's face and her parents' name tags. First she read her mother's: Sidonie. Willow didn't bother with looking at her parents' faces. Instead, she glanced to her father's name tag, which read "Reimund". She thought their names were remarkably different from those of her and her brother, who was waiting to see who would tell their dream first.

Finally, Peter volunteered.

"I didn't have any dreams," Peter stated, looking at Reimund.

The older man sighed. "I didn't either."

Sidonie sat straight up, telling her dream about running into a woman who was once Released as a newchild. The woman spoke with a stutter similar to that of Willow's and was otherwise shy. Willow looked away when Sidonie was telling this dream, feeling that she had caused it. Sidonie didn't seem very fond of this woman in the dream and Willow thought about the fact that the dream woman was Released early in life. Peter had once told her that she was almost Released as a newchild for slow development. Willow didn't know the whole story, but it made her think of Birthmothers for reasons unknown to her at the time. Her finger found its way to her belly button, making her remember what it was for, and she thought of a time she volunteered with the Birthmothers.

Willow had been spending her first few volunteer hours of that day at the Birthing Center, which was some amount of floors up from the ground floor at the Hospital. The Birthmothers were lighthearted and friendly toward her, unlike some of her classmates. She remembered one named Ametis, who delighted in receiving Willow's attention. Through Ametis, Willow learned that Birthmothers played name guessing games and that Ametis was going to birth a boy, whom she wanted to name Raleigh. Willow thought it was a cute name. Ametis allowed Willow to warm up to the other Birthmothers, but sometimes, the attention was just too much, and Willow noticed that her kinship with the Birthmothers didn't exactly improve her reputation among her classmates. Ametis seemed to understand why Willow wasn't going to the Birthing Center as often as she used to, which was a relief to Willow, as she didn't have to explain so much.

Finally, everyone went to their destinations. Sidonie and Reimund went to their workplaces and Peter and Willow went to school. Peter rode right beside Willow, who wished she could ride alone, as she didn't want people automatically comparing the two when they saw them. Willow knew that Peter was just looking out for her, but nothing seemed to work anyway. Willow just wanted to be left alone.

At last, Peter left her alone and Willow stopped at the river, looking at the planes that transported goods. She knew she had a time restraint, yet she kept biking at a slow pace. She found the planes mesmerizing and hoped that one day she would be assigned Pilot so she could fly anywhere. Of course, they would make sure their trainees only flew in certain areas, but the thought of seeing what was farther out than the fields entertained her. She checked her watch and realized that she wouldn't make it to school on time, she hurriedly rode away from the river, hoping not to be _too_ late.

She arrived at her classroom just as her fellow Tens were finishing up the Anthem. Willow stood by the door, waiting for the students to sit down again before entering. Instructor Emmett greeted her.

"Would you like to tell us why you're late?"

Willow felt a familiar tightness in her jaw whenever she was required to speak. She felt something in her throat constrict and her hands shook behind her back. Finally, she tried to do as she was asked.

"I- I left on time b-but I got dis - tracted by the p-planes," Willow struggled. She pursed her lips together, rocking on her feet slightly as she noticed that she was drawing more attention to herself than she would like.

"I ah – pologize to m-my learning... com–mum–munity," she spoke again, seeing a few students biting their lips to keep from laughing.

"We accept your apology," her classmates said, still chuckling a bit.

"Thank you, Willow," the Instructor said.

The Instructor continued with an arithmetic lesson, handing out classwork to the students. Willow squirmed in her chair, dreading the work she would have to do, and noticed how at ease the other students were. It seemed beyond her and she stared at the assignment Instructor Emmett gave her. Looking it over, she had the awful feeling that she would skip at least half of the problems. The Instructor would gently chastise her, she would report it in the Telling of Feelings, and her parents would sigh in disappointment. Her older brother never received such treatment. Unlike her, he had no difficulty in school and often received praise. People around her had thought it an enigma that her parents would do a fine job raising Peter, yet fail so miserably with Willow.

Willow read the first word problem and shuffled her feet underneath her desk. She tried to figure out which numbers she needed to multiply or divide, failing at her task, and whimpered with frustration. She saw that a few students were staring, so she sighed and put her head on her desk.

"Do you need help?" the Instructor asked.

She shook her head, refusing to speak, and skipped the problem. Luckily, some weren't tedious word problems, so she did those without struggle. After finishing some of those, one student to the far left, Jada, raised her hand and told the Instructor that she was finished.

'How does she _do_ that?' Willow thought.

* * *

Willow was finishing up her lunch alone while she looked at a group of friends, all laughing together. They were an unusually large group and Willow tried to identify them all. First, she identified the males: Rocky, Tamerlane, Joszef, and Harry. She identified the females: Jada, Elizabeth, Neith, Annick, and Dezerose. Willow stared at Dezerose, seeing that she had particularly lovely features: a button nose, almond shaped eyes and lips of a pretty shade. She would have tried to talk to Dezerose, but she would have been overwhelmed by her friends, who have all made fun of Willow in the past. As a result, Willow sat alone.

Willow watched as some of the Tens rode off to do some of their volunteer hours and thought about where she wanted to go. There was Food Distribution, which she wasn't fond of, so she decided not to go there. She decided to volunteer some place by the river so she could watch the planes fly from place to place. The Fish Hatchery and the House of the Old were her only two options and Willow debated with herself on where to go. On one hand, she didn't have to talk to many people at the Fish Hatchery. However, the House of the Old was a much calmer place, so if she did feel the need to talk, it wouldn't be so difficult. The Old were generally kinder than people her age, so she would feel comfortable. Willow hopped on her bike and rode to the House of the Old at a leisurely pace, trying not to think of who else would be volunteering there. In any case, she would refuse to talk to her fellow volunteers.

Willow parked her bicycle outside the building and walked in, seeing Dezerose. Willow didn't mind Dezerose as much as the other kids and often thought she was very pretty. Willow liked the way Dezerose didn't try to complete her sentences when she tried to talk. The only thing that kept them apart was the fact that Dezerose had other friends who demanded her attention and Willow was intimidated by them. Hopefully, none of Dezerose's friends were here. Willow saw Dezerose sign in and walked up to the front desk.

"Hi, Willow," the clerk greeted kindly.

Willow waved politely and looked for the pen, signing her name. She glanced at different parts of the room, searching for Dezerose, and looked back at the clerk. He seemed to understand what it was that she wanted.

"Dezerose is helping in the bathing room," he said. "You can go help them there."

"Th-thank yooouuu," Willow spoke, proceeding to the room.

Willow walked in, proceeding to the bench where the elderly waited. She stopped when she saw Dezerose helping an old man and waved to her, prompting a friendly greeting. Willow felt her cheeks flush and directed her attention to an old woman waiting to be bathed. She quickly changed into a smock and went back to the woman, reading her name tag.

"H-Hello, uh, Eul – lalia," Willow spoke.

Eulalia greeted her without looking at her. "Hello, child. Why don't you tell me your name? My eyes don't work as well as they used to."

"W – Will – llow," the Ten struggled, realizing that Eulalia was blind.

Willow helped Eulalia to the side of a bathtub, grabbing a towel to use later, and turned on the water. She simply pressed a button and waited for the warm water to fill the tub. The water flow would stop automatically, so she didn't have to worry about a thing. Willow assisted Eulalia in undressing and the old woman tried to get in the tub herself. Dezerose, who was helping the man in the next tub over, was chuckling.

"Eulalia always likes trying to do things herself," said the old man that Dezerose was bathing.

Willow looked at Dezerose, pointing to the man, and asked. "N-name?"

"Raphael," said the man. "You could have just asked me directly."

Dezerose shushed Raphael and Willow focused on bathing Eulalia, who appeared to be sleeping. She was glad she wouldn't have to speak to Eulalia much. Willow scrubbed the woman's arms and legs gently but quickly, waking up the older woman. The little Ten saw Eulalia stir and felt guilty.

"How far are we, Willow?" Eulalia asked.

"Al-aa-almost done."

Willow finished and let the water drain before helping Eulalia out of the tub. Willow was about to pat-dry her body when Eulalia piped up.

"Let me dry myself," she asked.

Willow gave her the towel and Eulalia bent over slowly, patting her thin limbs. Eulalia took a long time, making Willow impatient, and the old woman finally finished. Willow helped Eulalia put her clothes back on and escorted her to another room, where a Caretaker would assist her. She changed out of the smock and waited for Dezerose to finish up with Raphael. Once the pretty Ten escorted Raphael out and left the room, Willow followed her out, wondering what she was up to. Dezerose walked out of the building, prompting Willow to follow her, and Dezerose turned around.

"Uh, h-hi."

"You keep following me," Dezerose pointed out.

"I aah-uh-pologize," Willow struggled, looking down.

"I accept your apology," Dezerose replied.

The two girls were standing there silently and Willow examined her fellow Ten. She peered at Dezerose's name tag and smiled, thinking that she should say something before the other girl thought she was disinterested.

"I-I – I-like-your-name. Dez -za- rose."

Dezerose appeared awkward at first, but then smiled. "Thank you, Willow."

Willow looked down timidly, looking at the bikes, then at the river, and back at Dezerose again. She felt her cheeks flush and her jaw started to tighten. Willow hated this feeling. She knew her stammering would worsen and she would have to force the words out.

"D-J-Do you like rivers?" Willow asked, correcting herself while shaking her head at the ground. "Sit-t-ting at rivers?"

Dezerose smiled. "Sure."

Willow motioned her to walk in that direction and they sat down at the river, watching planes. One pointed nose jet, which Willow had never seen before, rose from the airport and flew into the distance. Willow wanted to know where it was going and pointed to it unwittingly.

"Th-the jet," Willow stammered. "Wh-where is it going?"

"I think that's a plane for Pilots-In-Training," Dezerose explained. "They're practicing."

Both girls then looked at the river, its surface translucent and smooth. They saw their own reflection and Willow saw that she had thin eyes, unlike Dezerose. The pretty Ten pointed at Willow's reflection happily.

"Willow," she whispered. "It's other-you."

"Other-W-willow," the stammering girl said. "I-I wish she w-was reeaal."

"Why?"

Willow started to cry. "S-s-so she ca – she can be wi - with my fam – family unit and I ca – can g-g-g-go away."

"Why would you want to go away?" Dezerose asked, quite confused.

Willow realized that Dezerose's question wasn't so simple. Wanting to leave the community was considered such an absurd idea. Everyone was cared for and fed, no one had to worry about anything. Everyone did the same thing: go to school, receive their assignment, train and work, grow up, and eventually (for most) start a family unit of their own. They would grow older and move in with the Childless Adults until they reached the House of the Old. Once one was old, they were being taken care of and their stories listened to until they were Released at a wonderful ceremony. The community meant safety, security, control, stability and success.

Willow realized that she represented none of that.

Willow didn't make things safe. She made things dangerous. She made people risk breaking rules. She dropped things and damaged them. Her father had once told her that, as a newchild, she was almost labeled Inadequate. When she heard that, she wondered if now, she would become "Inadequate" again.

Willow did not make people feel secure. Her nightly tellings would unsettle her parents, who would notice that on bad days, her speech would worsen. She thought of her brother, Peter, whom her parents preferred, making Willow feel very insecure.

Willow could not keep herself under control. When her nervousness got the better of her, her thoughts would go on a downward spiral. This had happened too many times to be considered normal.

Willow was not stable. When her emotions became something beyond nervousness, her stomach would churn and her insides felt like they would explode any second. She did not like being angry or sad, but that's what she could feel.

Most importantly, Willow did not represent success.

She thought about Dezerose's question again. "Why would you want to go away?"

"I – I want to fly p-past the fields. I-I w-want to s-s-ee Elsewhere," Willow stammered.

Willow started to think of the nature of Elsewhere. From what she know, it was everything that wasn't this community, which had to be a very big place indeed. With it being so large, there HAD to be good parts and bad parts. It didn't make sense to her that the vulnerable old would be in the same place as those deemed unworthy and can't be trusted anymore. Willow thought that the Elsewhere the elderly went to would be a comforting place where they had no worries, much like here. Those Released for three infractions would likely be sent to a bad place as a punishment. She couldn't imagine any other reason that being released early would be considered such a disgrace. Those who applied for Release mustn't have been dealt with better either, otherwise, more people would apply for it. Willow wanted to go Elsewhere and find all the newchildren that had been labeled Inadequate so she could find out what had happened to them.

"I – I don't l-l-l-like my family," Willow said, crying softly.

"Why not?"

"Th-th-they don't like m-m-me," she whimpered, her voice revealing more tension. "I – I'm not g-g-good lik-ke mmmyy bro-uh-ther."

Willow started to sob, making Dezerose feel very awkward. Willow looked at Dezerose, who tried her best to express sympathy. Willow's breaths started to become shorter, her eyes were puffy, and she started to sniffle. Her hands started to shake a bit as well when she thought of her time with her family unit. Oftentimes, when she tried to explain her frustrations, she could sense that they wanted her to hurry up. Willow could accurately make a mental image of how her parents would sigh in frustration when she would fail math tests. She started to realize how unhappy she was at school as well. She couldn't improve her coordination for her life, making it difficult to play different games during recreation. As a result, she alienated herself from her peers and during one period of her life, she had stopped talking. Willow started to feel angry for some time, her rage later segueing into sorrow. Her lips were puffy as well and she looked at her own reflection, seeing how pathetic she had become.

Before she could even think it through, she grabbed onto Dezerose's arm as an act of desperation.

"Willow, please get off," Dezerose whispered.

It had taken the same amount of time for Willow to process the comment as it did for a few of Dezerose's friends to appear behind them. Willow looked up, still clinging to Dezerose's arm for security, and gulped.

"What is she doing?" asked one girl named Elizabeth, who was inexplicably smart, according to Willow's standards.

"Willow!" cried another girl, Neith.

A boy named Tamerlane spoke matter-of-factly. "You aren't allowed to touch those outside of your family unit."

Willow let go of Dezerose's arm and scooted back, looking at the group's judging faces. Dezerose's expression was the only one that showed pity. Her chest started to tighten, her being consumed with shame, and she couldn't speak. Tears were still streaming down her face, but oddly enough, the group didn't seem to care. She had broken a minor rule; that was all that mattered.

"You're supposed to apologize," Neith said.

Willow got up and fled, hopping on her bike and riding far away from Dezerose and her scary friends. She rode past the various facilities and through the residential area until she had reached the very edge of the community, where isolation dwellings were erected. Willow biked a little further until she reached a willow tree. The tears of the willow tree made lines from the branches that almost touched the ground and she sought out the security of the leaves and bark. Willow sat down, still crying for her loneliness, and spoke in a singsong voice to herself. She never repeated sounds or phrases unwillingly when she spoke in singsong.

"Little Willow... Lovely Dez-ah-rose... Little Willow... Nice Dez-ah-rose... Dez-ah-rose... Little Willow... Dez-ah-rose went away... Little Willow... Weeping Willow."

The little Ten sniffled some more, crying and letting out a quiet moan of sorrow. She spoke in singsong again.

"Little Willow... Weeping Willow... Go Away Willow... Sad Willow... Stupid Willow... Silly Willow... Weeping Willow... Lonely Willow... Other Willow."

The young girl kicked the dirt in protest, wondering if anyone was bothering to look for her, and covered her face with her hands. Her eyes started to hurt and her breath came in soft hiccups. She turned her head, seeing the fields where Laborers worked, and wondered if she could see any farther. She whimpered one last time.

"Elsewhere Willow."


End file.
